Unus Intorqueo Motum Panton DISCONTINUED
by KingdomHeartsNerd
Summary: What if Prince Henry had survived infancy? Would things have been different if Henry VIII already had an heir when he married Anne Boleyn? Would Anne still lose her head? Rated 'T' due to language and death. Read and review please.
1. Birth of A Princess

******A/N: - I thought that this would be a good story to write. I may be a little Anti-Anne in this story. The first chapter is very anti-Mary.**

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******19th February 1516: Richmond Palace, England**

It had been just over a day since Katherine had died, giving birth to their daughter, Mary. He had, as protocol dictated, not attended her funeral, instead mourning privately, in his chambers. Henry smiled, as he held the young girl in his arms. Mary would be a good companion, to her brother, Henry, commonly known as Harry, who was born on the 4th of December 1514. Harry had been told of his mother's death and had burst into tears and refused to sleep until he was given a picture of his mother to sleep with.

The door opened, and Henry looked up, intent on scolding the person for entering without his permission, until he saw who it was. He smiled as his son, Harry, appeared in the doorway. He did not scold Lady Bryan, for he had ordered her to bring Harry here, so that Harry could meet his younger sister, Mary.

Henry gestured for Harry to come closer "Come here, child," Harry nervously walked forward, and Henry lowered the bundle of blankets, so that his son could see his younger sister.

"Harry, this is your younger sister, Mary," Harry looked down, into the bundle of blankets. He looked up, a small smile on his round face "She's cute,"

"Yes," Henry agreed "She is," If only her mother was here to see her. Poor Katherine, dead by the accursed childbed fever.

"Can I trust you to be a good brother to her, Harry?" Henry asked his son, who nodded, vigorously. "Yes, Papa," he replied "I'll be a good brother, to Mary,"

Henry smiled, ruffling his son's hair "Good boy, Harry. I love you, my son," he pulled Harry close and kissed him, once, on the forehead, before gesturing for Lady Salisbury to take Harry back to his chambers, and gesturing to Lady Bryan to take Mary away from him.

"Majesty," Lady Salisbury and Lady Bryan curtseyed and left the room with their respective charges, Harry and Mary. Once they had gone, the King sighed. Why did Katherine have to die giving birth to a girl? Why couldn't God have allowed Katherine to live and have more sons? No, Katherine had to have died giving birth to a _girl, _didn't she? Was God punishing him for the way his father had been? A miserly man, who rarely lavished affection on his children, or rarely spent money, not even to accomodate his children. Was God punishing him, now, for his father's actions?

He got to his feet, and sighed again, as he left the room. He would vist Harry later and then go out hunting with William and Charles, along with the rest of his entourage.

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**20th February 1516: Richmond Palace, England**

"Your Highness? Your father is here,"

"Papa! Papa! Papa!" Harry abandoned protocol and ran to his father, who lifted him into his arms, smiling. "How's my darling boy, today?" Henry asked, ruffling his son's hair. "I am well, Papa," Harry replied, smiling "How is Mary?"

"She is well," Henry assured his son. Henry was beginning to struggle with his son, who was fidgetting in his arms. Harry was growing taller and heavier, he was no frail lightweight, he wasn't like his deceased uncle, Arthur. He had inherited the robust nature that Henry had himself, when he was a child.

"I am glad, Papa. I like Mary," Harry replied, smiling.

"I like her too, Harry," Henry knew that he was blatantly lying, but it was to please his son, who was too young to understand why he did not like Mary. It was because of the fact that she had caused Katherine's death. _That child_, his daughter, would _only_ come to court for special occasions, betrothals, and things like that, other than that, she would remain at Hatfield, and not come to court.

"I am glad, Papa," Harry threw his chubby arms are Henry's neck and rested his head against his chest, smiling "I love you, Papa,"

"I love you too, Harry, my son," Henry placed a kiss onto his son's forehead and handed him, gently, to Lady Salisbury, who curtseyed as she took the sleeping child off of the King, who placed another kiss onto his son's head "Look after him, Lady Salisbury. He's the most important person in England,"

Next time he visited, he would bring his mother, Elizabeth of York, to visit her grandchildren. After all, it was only fair that the former Queen of England met her grandchildren.

"Majesty," Lady Salisbury curtseyed, and Henry left his son's chambers. He would not visit his daughter. She did not deserve it. She would be sent to Hatfield in the new year, when Henry would be sent to Ludlow Castle, to begin his duties as Prince of Wales, while his _daughter_, would be away from him. As he wanted. She took Katherine's life, she _deserved_ it.

Mary would see that taking her mother's life could make her own life very bad. Oh, yes, she would see... she would see...

[To Be Continued]

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**I am sorry to start a story with such a sour note, but, on the plus side. Things will pick up shortly. I am sorry that I killed Katherine. I just needed her out of the way so that things can progress.**


	2. The French Betrothal

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******A/N: - A four year time jump. Harry is six, while Mary is four and Henry FitzRoy is just over a year old.**

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**24th June 1520: The Field of Cloth of Gold, Calais**

Elizabeth of York, the Dowager Queen of England wasn't surprised by much in her old age. She had been on this earth for 54 years and had seen a lot. She had seen her family ripped apart by her uncle, and she had watched her children grow up. So, seeing her eldest grandson be betrothed to France did not surprise her.

"You _cannot_ like this?"

Elizabeth turned, to the person next to her. It was her youngest daughter, Mary, who had journeyed with them, despite having given birth to her third child less than nine weeks prior. Initially, Henry had refused to let her come with them, but, after some screaming and shouting on Mary's part, he allowed her to travel with them.

"Whether _I_ like the betrothal or not, is of no importance," Elizabeth replied, smiling thinly to her daughter "_Henry_ is the King and children are used for political reasons. You yourself were used for that same reason, Mary,"

Mary scrunched up her nose, in rememberance of her time in france, when she had married Louis XII of France a man of 52 who had died a few weeks after their marriage. Mary would never admit it, but it was she who had smothered him in his sleep. Despite giving birth to a child, by King Louis she was allowed to return to England, with her newly born daughter, Anne. As Anne was only a girl - and lower in the succession than the current King, Francis I - she was allowed to leave France and be raised with her mother.

After King Louis had died Mary had been forced to stay in France in case she was carrying a male heir, when it turned out that she was carrying a girl, she had been allowed to leave.

"How are your children, Mary? Are they well?" Elizabeth asked Mary, who smiled, to her mother "They are, My Lady Mother," she replied and Elizabeth's nose crinkled "You sound like I did at 17. We were in sanctuary and my mother, who I am named after, demanded that we call her _My Lady Mother_, so that she was certain that it was us. I loved my mother, but goodness, she stuck to her principles to an almost obsessive nature, but, I cannot blame her. After all, having your two sons disappear from right underneath you nose would have made anyone become like that. It was only when Katherine was born, in 1503, that I got over the death of Arthur,"

"Do you see much of Edmund now, Mother?" Mary asked, as they were on the subject of siblings.

"Not as much as I would like," Elizabeth admitted "He is always busy. He's a man of 21 and is busy looking for a marriage. I knew, from the moment he moved out, that I wouldn't see him as much as I used too. He's got a house of his own, Somerset House, near Oxford,"

Mary sighed "I'll have to visit him when I can. I'll take Henry, Frances and Eleanor along. I don't think that he has met his nephew and nieces yet,"

"No," Elizabeth replied "I haven't seen my grandchildren in a while, Mary. I would like to see them again soon,"

Mary's reply was cut off by the batallion of trumpets which began to play. "Their Highnesses, Henry Tudor, Prince of Wales and Charlotte De Valois-Angoulême, Princess of France,"

Mary took her seat, next to her mother and watched the two children greet each other. As Charlotte moved forward to kiss Harry on the cheek, Mary smiled, seeing her nephew blush a bright shade of red before kissing Charlotte on the cheek.

Henry smiled, as the two children left the stage. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and nodded, to him. Harry smiled up at him and Henry leaned down whispering something in his ear and Harry ran off to his governess, Lady Salisbury.

"Aunt Elizabeth! Grandmama Elizabeth!" Harry, breaking from the arms of his governess, ran to his aunt and grandmother, who crouched, embracing Harry. "Your Highness," Harry smiled, throwing his chubby arms around his grandmother's neck. "I'm betrothed," he informed her.

"I know," she smiled "I was watching. I was betrothed a few times myself, before I met your grandfather. I was betorhted to my uncle, and then your grandfather,"

"You were betrothed, Grandmama?" Harry asked, looking up to her. Elizabeth nodded "Yes," she replied "I was. I married your grandfather because I wanted too... only one bad thing came from that marriage?"

"Henry?" Mary asked, laughing. Elizabeth chuckled "No," she replied "Harry's great-grandmother,"

"Oh," Mary replied "Grandmother Beaufort," she shuddered, turning to Henry "Be glad that she isn't here. She despised the French," Elizabeth laughed at her daughter's words "Imagine her shock when your father initially wanted to marry you to the French. He broke it off when I asked him too, but, even when it was broken off, we kept it going for a couple of days to see how she would react," Elizabeth laughed, openly, smiling "Imagine how angry your father got when his mother slapped me for suggesting the marriage in the first place,"

"She hit you?" Harry exclaimed, shocked. Elizabeth nodded "Several times. When I was expecting Arthur she hit me and your grandfather refused to see her for a few weeks, because she had endangered a Prince or Princess of England as well as a Queen of England,"

Harry smiled, as Elizabeth released him from the hug. "How is my brother, Harry Fitzroy, Grandmama?" Elizabeth smiled "He is well, Henry. He's is being raised at Sheriff Hutton Castle in Yorkshire," Harry nodded, "Good,"

Despite Harry being on this state trip, his younger sister, the four year old, Princess Mary, named after her aunt, had not been invited and had been confined to her rooms at court so that her father did not have to see her.

"Papa!" Spotting his father, Harry ran forward, to embrace his father, who smiled, ruffling his son's hair and crouching down to embrace him. "How are you Harry?"

"I am well, Papa,"

"Was the Princess Mary not invited to this occasion?" Elizabeth asked. Henry looked up. "No," he replied "Princess Mary is too young,"

"And Harry _isn't?" _Elizabeth replied "He's only six, Henry," she shook her head, sadly. Henry had never really gotten over the fact that Katherine had died while giving birth to Mary and had, so far, never remarried.

"I was on state visits at a younger age than Harry, Mother," Henry replied. "Yes," Elizabeth replied "Because _I_ demanded it. Your father, and grandmother, wanted you away from state occasions because you were due to enter the church,"

"Mother," Henry cut swiftly across his mother "Everyone knows that, no matter what happened, Arthur would have been deposed when he became King. He would have been replaced by me. Everyone knew that I was the better-"

Harry gasped, as did his Aunt, Mary. Elizabeth had slapped her son, hard, around the face. Henry stumbled slightly, and glared, angrily up at his mother, his temper beginning to boil and Elizabeth too, could feel herself getting angry.

"You dare mention your brother to me! It was only by an accident that you became King!" Elizabeth turned away from her son and began to walk away, anger coursing through her.

_**"COME BACK HERE!" **_The infuriated call from Henry caused Elizabeth to stop on the spot. She turned back to her son "I was a Queen once, Henry, and I was loved more than any Queen, except Katherine, and, perhaps, my mother, and I am definitely more loved than you are!"

Henry raised his hand, ready to hit his mother again. "Stop! Please!" Harry stepped between his father and grandmother, his arms spread wide. Henry seeing the tears rolling down his son's plump cheeks lowered his hand and crouched to Harry, attempting to pull him close. Harry shook his head, choked back tears and scrambled from his father's arms, beginning to run off to hide.

"Harry!" The call from his Father and Aunt did not call him back.

"Harry! _Get back here!" _Harry stopped at the angry call. It was not his father who had shouted, but his grandmother. He turned, seeing his grandmother's face. She crouched down in front of him "Just because your father and I are shouting at each other does not mean that we hate each other. Families fight all the time. Look at your aunt. You should have her her scream at Henry when he told her he was going to marry the King of France. She screamed the house down,"

Harry looked up at his grandmother "She did?" he asked, sniffing. Elizabeth nodded "She did," She reached forward and wiped her grandson's tears with the wing of her sleeve "Come on," she began, placing a hand on his shoulder "Your father wants to see you,"

"He's not angry?" Harry asked. Elizabeth smiled "Your father could never stay angry at you," she replied, steering Harry gently back to his father

"Harry!" Henry ran forward, falling to his knees and pulling Harry in close. He placed a kiss on his son's head, before burying his head into his son's hair. "Don't ever scare me like that again. I thought I'd lost you,"

"I'm sorry, Papa," Harry replied, smiling, timidly, up to his father. Henry shook his head, which was still buried in his son's red hair, exactly like his "It was my fault. I forget that you're still a child, Harry,"

Harry smiled, before letting a look of confusion pass over his face "Papa?" he asked "On the next state visit, can Mary come with us?"

Henry looked down to his son. Seeing his son's hopeful, and innocent, face "We'll see, Harry. We'll see,"

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**25th June 1520: The Field of Cloth of Gold, Calais**

"That woman," Henry began, leaning back, so that Francis could hear him. He pointed to a woman, with long brown hair which curled down her back. She was dressed in a green dress, which curled upwards just above her ankles "Who is she?"

"Oh," Francis laughed, clapping a hand on Henry's shoulder "That is Mademoisella Mary Carey, nee Boleyn, the eldest daughter of your ambassador. I call her my English Mare, because I ride her so many times,"

Henry laughed, but cast a warning glance to Francis as Harry was sat nearby. Elizabeth, having overhead the beginning of the conversation had distracted her grandson.

"Hmm," Henry replied. He gestured to one of the servants "Tell Mary Boleyn that I want to see her tonight," The servant bowed and scuttled off.

"The King has noticed you," Thomas Boleyn informed Mary as he saw the servant come towards them.

"Which one?" Mary asked her father, lokking up, towards the thrones.

"Mademoisella Boleyn," the servant began, as he reached her "King Henry would like to see you, tonight,"

She gave a curtsey, and looked up, towards the thrones. Henry nodded his head once, and the trumpets began. Francis looked to the door, and then to Henry, who smirked. The double doors swung open, revealing Henry's sister, Mary. She was carrying a large, brown pie. She approached the main table and placed down the pie. Mary cast Henry a glance and he smirked. She moved backwards, curtseying. "I'm afraid," Henry began "This is all I can give you,"

Francis looked confused, but picked up a knife and cut into the top of the pie, draggin the knife towards him, creating a vertical cut. He repeated it a second time, creating a horizontal cut. A squawk echoed, and the top of the pie burst open as crows flew out of the pie. Francis laughed, openly. Henry raised his hands and clapped, summoning the dancers, who began to dance.

One of the dancers made a motion to Francis and Henry cocked his head as if to urge Francis on. Francis rose to his feet and moved to the dance floor as the crown applauded.

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**26th June 1520: The Field of Cloth of Gold, Calais**

"Mademoisella Carey," Elizabeth greeted her sons's mistress, with the same air of calmness that she had greeted Bessie Blount with. Mary curtseyed "Your Majesty," Elizabeth smiled "I hear that my son has taken an... interest... in you, Mary,"

Mary nodded, blushing at being addressed by the first lady of the English Court "Indeed, Your Majesty. Forgive me if I have offended you," Elizabeth laughed "Offended me? Not at all! I haven't seen Henry this happy since the birth of my grandson," Elizabeth leaned down, to whisper in Mary's ear "You may have my son, just make sure that he returns to his family in the end, Mademoisella Carey," Mary nodded "I will, Your Majesty, I promise,"

"Good," Elizabeth turned to leave. With a whoosh, an arrow pinned itself in the wall nearby "Majesty!" Elizabeth paled, and gasped, placing a hand to her chest

Henry looked up at the cry of "Majesty!". Spotting the arrow pinned in the wall, and his mother's shocked stance, he moved around the table. "Mary!" he began, summoning his sister, who approached and curtseyed "Take Harry away from here," Mary Tudor, Dowager Queen of France and Duchess of Suffolk, ushered her nephew from the room, despite his protests. She did not curtsey at the door, nor did Henry scold her for it.

Henry moved to his mother's side "Mother?" she did not look to him, and she was still pale. He pulled the arrow out of the wall. "Francis!" he called, and Francis approached, taking the arrow from him "This is not one of mine. My archers use the french ruff on their arrows, and your archers have your house's symbol around the tail," Henry turned to the hall "Find out who this arrow belongs too. They're to lose their head, immediately,"

Up on the balcony, Sir Thomas Boleyn smiled, handing the bow back to the person nearby. He handed the person a bag of gold "I was never here, touche?" The man nodded, and Sir Thomas Boleyn rejoined the crowd, unnoticed by everyone.

[To Be Continued]

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**A/N: - I despite Anne, George and Thomas Boleyn with a passion, so, this chapter is very Anti-Boleyn.**


	3. The Boleyns at court

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******A/N: - Eleanor. Don't worry. I like Mary Boleyn I will be nice to her, especially when it comes to her re-marriage. As for Anne, George and Thomas, well, we'll see? Anyway, about a two month time jump, and yes, I apologise for moving up the dates of Mary Boleyn being Henry's mistress, and, as I like Elizabeth Howard, I have written the Boleyn/Howard parts in this chapter for that reason.**

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24th August 1520: Hever Castle, Kent, England

"When did ambition become soomething to be proud of?" Elizabeth Howard asked her husband as she slammed her hands onto the table "Mary is twenty one, Anne, is nineteen and George is barely sixteen! You're condemning them, Thomas!"

"They have to learn the way things work at court!" Thomas snapped.

"Prince Henry is at court! Things are not like that! No-one goes around killing each other! People are killed because they commit treason against the King!" Elizabeth replied, beginning to pace. Thomas sighed "You're lucky, Elizabeth. Your family have always had wealth, and power-"

"Which I gave up to marry you, Thomas. I had no problems with that!" Elizabeth did not seem fazed that she had interrupted him, nor that was screaming at her husband "I did that for you! Now you do this for me! Do not let Anne, or Mary, be pawns to the King again! They could get hurt!"

Thomas sighed and got to his feet. "I will do what I want! I am taking Anne and George to court!"

Elizabeth clenched her fists and glared at Thomas. He turned and slammed the door shut behind him. Elizabeth moved to the table and picked up a piece of parchment. Sitting at the table she began to write.

_Your Majesty, Queen Elizabeth,_

_Years ago, I served you as a lady-in-waiting and you said that you would repay me in any way that you could. Well, now, I ask you to look after my daughters, Anne and Mary. I do not want them to get hurt at court. I know that it may be impossible with my husband there, but I would be incredibly grateful if you could keep them as safe as possible. If anything happens, I would like you to inform me, Your Majesty._

_Your humble servant, former lady-in-waiting and former sister-in-law,_

_Elizabeth Howard._

She folded the letter up and thrust it to one of the servants that had been sent to serve her husband "For Queen Elizabeth's eyes only," The servant scurried off.

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**25th August 1520: Richmond Castle, England**

"Sister," Catherine Plantagenet, The Countess of Devon got her sister's attention. "Catherine," Elizabeth turned to her sister, who gave a small curtsey. Being alone, and with the families ties between them, titles were not needed in this situation. Catherine held out a letter and Elizabeth took it from her. Flicking it open, Elizabeth scanned the letter. She did not dismiss Catherine. "Catherine," Elizabeth began, looking up to her sister. "Bring the ladies, Anne and Mary Boleyn here along with their brother, George Boleyn,"

Catherine curtseyed and disappeared from her sister's chambers returning five minutes later with Anne, Mary and George Boleyn.

"Sit," Elizabeth directed the three siblings in to three chairs. "Your mother has written to me asking me to make sure that nothing happens to you while you are at court. Now, I cannot promise that nothing will happen, but, I will do whatever I can to keep you safe. Your mother is a good friend of mine. She was one of my ladies, and one of the ladies that worked for Queen Katherine,"

"Why did she ask you to help us?" Anne asked "You're an old woman. What can you do?"

"Regardless of my age, Mistress Boleyn, I have more influence than anyone at court. Even Katherine did not have more influence than I did, and she provided Henry with a Prince of Wales, and, as there is no current Queen, I am the leading Lady at court, not including my granddaughter, Mary, as she is just a child,"

"So," Anne began, sneering "This court is run by an old woman," Elizabeth did not let her anger at Anne pass through "Why not? My mother-in-law ruled the court when I was Queen. I plan to do the same, if it keeps my family safe. I will let them be children, as they are still young, but I will protect them with my life, Mistress Boleyn. I promise you that. Just because you came back to England with my daughter, Mary, does not mean that you have an permission to talk badly about anyone,"

"Sister? Princess Mary is here," Catherine informed her sister. "Thank you, Catherine," Elizabeth replied, looking to her sister "Let her in,"

The door to Elizabeth's chambers swung open. Mary moved forward, curtseying to Elizabeth. "Mary," Elizabeth greeted, "I would like you to meet your new lady-in-waiting, Lady Anne Boleyn,"

Mary held her head high, and looked over to Anne before curtseying and turning to leave. She stopped and gasped. Henry was stood in the doorway. His eyes landed on Mary and then flicked up to his mother. "Mother," he began, angrily "May I have a word... In private?"

"Certainly," Elizabeth rose. Harry appeared from behind his father's legs and ran forward, pulling Mary into a hug. An angered cry of **_"...DAUGHTER... COURT... COULD YOU?"_** echoed through the wall and Mary began to cry. "Oh stop crying! You're not a baby!" Anne snapped, to Princess Mary.

Henry glared up at her, over his sister's shoulder, before he rested his lips against Mary's ear and began whispering soothing words in her ear. The screaming cry from Elizabeth echoed, loudly, around the room _**"...MY GRANDDAUGHTER... NOT HER FAULT... JUST A CHILD!"**_

The door slammed open again "It is not Mary's fault that Katherine died giving birth to her! You're the one who made her fall pregnant, and, if you will not find a betrothal to her, then, I will betroth her to one of my Plantagenet relatives, Henry!"

Henry glared to his mother "You wouldn't dare, Mother! She is my daughter! Not yours!" Elizabeth rose to her full height. Despite being shorter than her son, she angrily berated him, glaring at him "Then treat her like your daughter! She is a child! You dote on Harry, make some effort on Mary's behalf!"

Henry glared at his mother before turning and storming to the door "Bring Harry back to his chambers when you are finished with him, mother," he gave a stiff bow "Aunt Catherine," he bowed again, before disappearing out of the door, which slammed shut behind him. Elizabeth sighed, falling backwards into her chair and accepting the goblet of wine, that Catherine handed her "I'm getting to old for this, Catherine,"

"I'll say," Anne muttered, to George. Elizabeth acted like she had not heard Anne.

"Shh, Mary, shh. It's not your fault.I promise you, Mary. It's not your fault," Harry held his sobbing sister close to him. He began to rub her back, lovingly, as she sniffed, choking on her own tears. Elizabeth downed her goblet and got to her feet "I'll take it from here, Harry,"

Harry looked up, and loosened his grip on Mary. He moved backwards, gently releasing Mary. Elizabeth crouched down, in front of her granddaughter and smiled "It's ok, Mary,"

"You and papa were shouting," she began, nearly sobbing again. Elizabeth smiled "Yes," she began "We were. But everything it better now, Mary,"

Once she had assured Mary that everything was alright, she sent her grandchildren on their way. "Who is that woman?" Henry asked Elizabeth as Anne, Mary and George left his mother's chambers. "Who?" Elizabeth asked. Henry pointed, quickly, to the brown haired girl, just disappearing around the corner. "Oh," Elizabeth replied "That... is Mistress Anne Boleyn, the sister of your former Mistress, Lady Carey. You remember? She married William Carey,"

"Ah," Henry replied "Yes. I remember. Thomas Boleyn's daughter. She returned from France with Mary,"

"I know, Henry," Elizabeth replied, placing a hand on her son's shoulder "I know. She has a claim to the throne herself, through her Howard relatives," Henry nodded, airily "Hmm. Thank you, Mother," Elizabeth rolled her eyes "It seems that my son has found his new mistress," she muttered, quietly, to herself. Turning, she curtseyed to her son, and returned to her chambers.

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**26th August 1520: Hever Castle, Kent, England**

"The King has noticed you, Anne," Thomas Boleyn informed his daughter as he entered their dining room. Elizabeth Howard, his wife, cast him a glare of contempt and returned to her stitching. "If you can get the King to love you enough, then perhaps you could become Queen,"

"That's enough, Thomas!" Elizabeth swiftly interrupted her husband "My daughter's claim to the throne is through my family. Her Howard relations. Not her Boleyn relations. I am in charge of whether she gets the King's attention, or not. After all, he moved on, from Mary, quick enough, didn't he?" Mary nodded, hanging her head "It is nothing to be ashamed of, Mary. Being mistress to the King of England is nothing to be ashamed off," Thomas assured his daughter, despite casting her a glance of disgust.

Elizabeth sighed "Thomas," she began "Mary is barely twenty one. Would you rather Mary marry and provide children to marry into powerful families, or would you rather condemn her to have the King's bastard children. He already has one, Henry Fitzroy, he does not need another, Thomas. He has his legitimate heir, and, after Prince Henry, comes the Princess Mary,"

"A woman can never succeed to the throne of England!" Thomas snapped, angrily. "I know that!" Elizabeth had risen to her feet and was now shouting at her husband "But Prince Henry is a healthy child and isn't going to die anytime soon! You so much as touch a hair on that boy's head, Thomas, or a hair on the Princess Mary's head and you will regret it. Through my family I have some powerful contacts, Thomas, you know this! You know who my family is! My nephew is the nephew of The Dowager Queen who was my sister-in-law, and, due to the death of her sister, still is, as the marriage was not dissolved. I share a nephew with the Dowager Queen!"

"That does not count for anything, Elizabeth. You know tha-" Elizabeth had swiftly cut her husband off with a short, sharp slap, straight to the side of his face "Listen to me Thomas! If you want to have a home to come home to, then you will do as I say, or I will be filling for a divorce. If the King says no, then The Dowager Queen will convince him otherwise. He'll do anything for her, so, I warn you, Thomas Edward Boleyn! Leave your children here with me and get back to court!"

Thomas did not reply. He glared to his wife and swept from the room. Elizabeth gave a smirk and began to knit, as she sat in the chair.

[To Be Continued]

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**I hope that you liked this chapter. Review please. Thank you.**


	4. Prince Harry's Illness

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******A/N: - Since it was never stated why Edmund Tudor, Duke of Richmond died at the age of 15 months in 1500, I am going to say that, in this story, he suffered from Quartan Fever and survived.**

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24th May 1521: Ludlow Castle, England: The Welsh Marshes: Prince Henry's Chambers

The door, to Prince Harry's chambers opened and his father, King Henry VIII, appeared in the doorway. Prince Harry had fallen ill and had been confined to his bed. King Henry looked terrified as he approached Harry and sat on the side of the bed. He placed an arm around Harry and pulled him towards his chest, holding him close.

"Majesty," one of the physician's protested. Dr Linacre raised a hand, to silence him "It might be just what the Prince needs to recover,"

Henry placed his son back onto the pillow. Pulling the quilt over Harry, his father tucked him in, stroking his cheek and placing a kiss on to his forehead. "Get well soon, Harry,"

"I love you, Papa," Harry smiled, and gave a small cough, before closing his eyes and drifting into a deep sleep. Henry got to his feet. "Linacre," he began, approaching the physician "Do whatever you have to, to make sure that Harry recovers. Do whatever you have too,"

Dr Linacre nodded, as King Henry passed him.

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**25th May 1521: Whitehall Palace, England: Dowager Queen Elizabeth's Chambers**

"How is my nephew?" Edmund Tudor, Duke of Somerset sat in the chair as he asked his question. Elizabeth, Dowager Queen of England sighed "Not good, I'm afraid, Edmund. It is possible that we could lose him."

"What is he suffering from?" Edmund asked, folding one leg over the other. Elizabeth looked up, from her goblet, and locked eyes with her son. She sighed "He's suffering from the same thing that you did, Edmund. He's suffering from Quartan Fever,"

Edmund's goblet shook in his hand for a moment, before he steadied himself. However, his voice quivered as he spoke "I barely survived that. Do we know what the Prince's chances of survival are?"

Elizabeth shook her head "We do not know his chances. The Physicians have not told us... You know how Henry is. He'll panic like mad..."

Edmund nodded, in agreement "Yes. I know how Henry is," He gave a small smile. "I remember what he was like as a child too,"

"Yes," Elizabeth replied "Well-built and stocky," Edmund smiled, nodding in agreement "Unlike me," he commented "I was always the slimmer of the two of us - Henry was always more chunky than I was - and, I was always the shorter of the two, I still am, I guess. I was also weaker than him when it came to falling ill. When he fell ill he recovered within a few days, while I took a week-and-a-half."

Elizabeth placed a hand on to Edmund's shoulder "You're just as good as Henry is, Edmund. The only difference between you is eight years of age, Edmund, nothing more,"

Edmund gave a small, goofy smile and got to his feet. "I'm going to visit Harry."

"No!" Elizabeth was on her feet in an instant "No! I don't want you to fall ill as well."

Edmund gave a nod, and bowed, before leaving his mother's chambers.

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**26th May 1521: Hever Castle, Kent, England**

Elizabeth Howard glanced up, as Thomas spoke to her eldest daughter's husband, William Carey.

"No," William Carey protested, shaking his head "Mary has been the mistress of the King already! Use Anne!" William hooked an arm around Mary and held her close.

Thomas raised a hand, ready to slap William. He swung it, but felt someone grab his hand. "Thomas," Elizabeth began, lowering her husband's hand "William is right. Mary is married. She needs to provide heirs for the Carey family, not bastard children for the King, and that does not mean that you will use Anne, instead. Do you understand me, Thomas?"

Thomas did not reply, he merely looked to Anne and George. "George. Fetch your brother, Henry, would you?"

"Certainly, Father," George left the room, and, a few moments later, returned with a boy, almost sixteen years old. The boy's head barely came up to George's shoulder - despite the fact that he was only a year younger than George - and the boy was a little rotund. His doublet was fastened tightly around his waist "Henry," Thomas began "I think it is time that I took you to court. You will travel with George, Anne and me, tomorrow,"

"Yes, Father," he bowed, once, stifly at the waist, and left his father's presence. George followed. "Alright, Henry," he began, as they left the room "What's wrong? You're never normally this quiet,"

"I don't want to go to court," Henry protested "I want to stay at home, marry and raise a family!"

George placed a hand on to his younger brother's shoulder "Come to court, Henry. You might find the right woman. You're nearly sixteen. If you want to marry, you'll need to do it soon, especially is father begins to get impatient," Henry sighed and he and George embraced "Father will have to find a marriage for me," George began, ruffling his brother's hair for a moment "I am the eldest son. I cannot choose who I marry. You can,"

The two parted from the embrace and Henry smiled, cheekily "I know. I'm lucky!" George swatted Henry, gently, around the back of the head "Go on! Get out of here, cheeky!" Henry smiled, stcking his tongue out, before running off, laughing. George, after a few moments, ran after him and tackled him to the floor, tickling him. Henry laughed as George tickled him.

"George! Henry! Stop that!" The two stopped, as Thomas Boleyn appeared in the doorway, a letter in his hand "and come here. I have some news about Prince Henry," George and Henry returned to the other room, as Anne and Mary entered. "Prince Henry..." Thomas began, placing the letter onto the table "...has survived his illness..."

[To Be Continued]

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**The ending is a bit lame, I know, but, I just wanted to get straight to the point, and that seemed the best way to do it. Henry Boleyn was an actual person, except, in history, he was born in 1500, just after Mary, and just before Anne. However, for this story, I made him the youngest child. I did it so that George would have a closer confidante, after all, Anne is four years older than him, and Mary is five years older than him. Review please. Thank you.**


	5. The Three Henrys

******I thought that I would jump a little bit, to 1522. In this chapter, Anne Boleyn and Mary Carey come to court.**

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**25th May 1522: Whitehall Palace, England: Dowager Queen Mary's Chambers**

"Lady Anne Boleyn and Lady Mary Carey,"

Mary Brandon nee Tudor, Dowager Queen of France and Duchess of Suffolk turned to her four children. She was heavily pregnant with her next child "Anne, Henry, Frances, Eleanor, I want you on your best behaviour while you're at court, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mum," Henry replied. Anne, Frances and Eleanor nodded. "Good," Mary replied, straightening her son's doublet before turning to greet Anne Boleyn and Mary Carey.

"Anne Boleyn," Mary greeted, smiling "One of my favourite ladies while I was in France," she smiled, brightly, before greeting Mary "And Lady Carey. You were the Mistress of King Francis, were you not? And now, you're married to one of the Gentleman of the Privy Chamber, and Esquire of the Body to my brother, the King,"

"Yes, Your Highness," Mary replied. The Dowager Queen Mary smiled "Have you met my children, Lady Carey, Mistress Boleyn?"

The Dowager Queen Mary gestured for her children to come forward. Henry, six years old, looked to Anne, who smiled, and gave him a small push. He moved forward, stopping by his mother. He bowed, at the waist, in acknowledgement. "This is my son, Henry, the future Duke of Suffolk," Dowager Queen Mary placed a hand on Henry's shoulder.

Anne, seven years old, moved forward, and curtseyed as she stopped at Henry's side. "This is my eldest daughter, Anne De Valois-Orleans, Princess of France," next, Frances, aged five, moved forward when her mother gestured for her to walk forward. Frances held her head high, and gave a small curtsey "This is my daughter, Frances," Mary gestured again, and the youngest child, barely three years old, walked forward. "This is Eleanor, my youngest daughter,"

Anne curtseyed to each of them in turn and began to talk to each of them in turn, as did Mary Carey.

"Your Majesty. King Henry will see you now,"

Dowager Queen Mary turned to her children. "Behave while I am gone. Lady Carey, can I trust you to look after my children?" at the nod from Lady Carey, Dowager Queen Mary followed the herald to her brother's audience chamber.

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**

******26th May 1522: Whitehall Palace, England: Dowager Queen Elizabeth's Chambers.**

"His Highness, Henry, Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwall and Chester!"

Elizabeth rose, smiling, to greet her eight year old grandon. "Harry,"

Prince Henry bowed at the waist. He was tall, and well built, but slightly heavy for his age - mostly because, at night, he would sometimes sneak to the kitchens at Ludlow - for the odd treat. He smiled "Grandmother,"

Elizabeth dipped a curtsey "Your Grace,"

He dismissed his governess, Lady Salisbury, who was thanked by Elizabeth. Once Lady Salisbury was gone, Henry ran to his grandmother and the two embraced tightly. "I missed you, Grandmother Elizabeth,"

Elizabeth held Harry close to her "I missed you to, Harry. I will have to ask your father if you can come to court more often," He smiled, looking up to her "I get lonely at Ludlow. I'm the only child there!" he pouted "Papa won't even let Cousin Henry stay with me!"

"Perhaps if you asked your father nicely, he might allow your half-brother to stay with you," Elizabeth suggested to her grandson, who smiled. The door to Elizabeth's chambers opened and King Henry entered "Papa!"

King Henry held his son close, embracing him and placing a kiss onto his son's forehead. Harry looked up to his father "Papa? Can my half-brother, Henry Fitzroy stay with me at Ludlow? Please?"

Harry filled his eyes with water and pushd out his bottom lip a little. Henry melted at his son's look. "Very well. I'll ask for your brother, Lord Fitzroy, to be escorted to Ludlow so that he can be with you, Harry,"

"Thank you, Papa!" Harry exclaimed, almost jumping with joy. Henry pushed his son gently and Harry ran back to his Governess, who had entered the room. Lady Salisbury escorted Harry from the room.

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**

******27th May 1522: Ludlow Palace, England: Prince Henry's Chambers.**

"Have you met your half-brother yet, Lord Fitzroy?"

Three year old Henry Fitzroy looked up to the scary lady above him and shook his head. Lady Salisbury, the scary lady in question, clucked as she pushed open the door and the herald announced "Lord Henry Fitzroy, Duke of Richmond and Earl of Nottingham!"

Harry looked up, from his position and smiled. Lady Salisbury leaned down and whispered for Fitzroy to bow. Fitzroy swept into a bow. Harry thanked Lady Salisbury and she left the room. Harry moved forward, to meet his half-brother. "Welcome to Ludlow. I'm your half-brother, Henry,"

"I-I'm Henry F-Fitzroy, Y-Your Grace," Fitzroy stuttered, nervously, looking up at the eight year old boy. Harry smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. Fitzroy flinched "Don't worry," Harry began, soothingly "I'm your half-brother. I won't hurt you."

Fitzroy looked up, as Harry slipped an arm around him, and pulled him close. Feeling his brother hug him, Fitzroy smiled, resting his head gently, on Harry's chest. Harry placed a small kiss into his brother's golden hair and smiled. The two Tudors brothers were reunited at last, even if one of them was a Fitzroy by name. But, no matter what surname, they were both Tudors through blood, and, after all, blood was thicker than water.

"Your Grace?" Fitzroy looked up to his older half-brother.

"Yes, Henry?" Harry looked down, at the tiny three year old in his arms.

"Can I call you, Harry?" Fitzroy enquired, looking slightly confused.

"Of course." Harry assured him, smiling " I'm your brother, but, call me by my title of Your Grace, around the important people - but, when we're alone, yes, you can call me, Harry." Fitzroy nodded in acknowledgement.

"Can you teach me to use a sword?" Fitzroy inquired. Harry frowned "When you're a little older, Henry. When you're a little older. I do not know how to use a sword yet. I am only eight,"

"How about now?" Fitzroy asked "I'm older."

"No." Harry replied, swiftly cutting off his half-brother

"Now?" Fitzroy asked, bouncing on the heels of his shoes

"No." Harry replied, cutting Fitzroy off again.

"Now?" Fitzroy asked, rocking on his feet and looking up to Harry

"No!" Henry replied, hopefully ending their conversation.

It was going to be a long night... a very long night...

"Harry?" Fitzroy asked

"Yes, Henry?" Harry replied, indulging his three year old half-brother.

"Am I old enough now?" Harry cuffed Fitzroy gently around the head and smirked as he replied "No,"

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**

**28th May 1522: Ludlow Palace, England: Prince Henry's Chambers**

"Henry Brandon!"

Prince Harry and Hal Fitzroy looked up as the double ingress swung open, revealing Henry Brandon.

"Cousin Henry," Prince Harry rose, to greet his cousin "Welcome to Ludlow,"

Henry Brandon bowed, and Harry laughed, taking his cousin by the shoulders and lifting him up "There is no need for that. I am not like my father, I do not mind if you do not use titles when we are in private,"

Henry nodded, in acknowledgement and Harry gestured for Fitzroy to come forward "Have you met Lord Fitzroy, Henry?"

"No," Henry replied, shaking Fitzroy's hand "I have not had the pleasure."

Harry smiled "He's a nice boy, just... don't mention using a sword around him... I only got him to be quiet yesterday by putting him to bed! He wants to use a sword so badly!"

"Perhaps he could lead England's army when he is older?"

"Don't suggest that to him!" Harry cried "He'd never stop asking me if I can teach him to use a sword,"

Henry Brandon laughed, smiling.

[To Be Continued]

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Well, not much happens in this chapter, but, it sets the scenes for later on. Next chapter... coming soon.


	6. Anne Boleyn, Queen of England

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******I know that this is a major time jump, right to 1527, but, it is after this chapter where things will - hopefully - begin to pick up. I know that this chapter means that I get to do a lot of Howard and Boleyn bashing. It is short, as it is nothing but the marriage of Anne and Henry.**

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**25th February 1527: Whitehall Palace, England**

Margaret Douglas, formerly Stewart, Nee Tudor, Dowager Queen of Scotland, Princess of England, Lady Douglas and Countess of Angus, was not happy. Her brother, King Henry VIII of England, was marrying a commoner and a whore. The Lady Anne Boleyn. God, how she cursed that name. To Margaret's immense horror, her sister, Mary, Dowager Queen of France, Princess of England and Duchess of Suffolk, had been helping Lady Anne with her dress.

Since Margaret had fallen pregnant, she and Archibald Douglas, 6th Earl of Angus, her husband, had become closer and the amount of arguments had reduced, and now, Archibald sat next to her in the pew reserved for The King's family, which seemed tiny compared to all of the whore's Howard's relatives.

Prince Harry sat at the front of the pew, with his sister, Princess Mary, who was younger than him by two years. Then came Dowager Queen Elizabeth. Next to her was Prince Edmund Tudor, the Duke of Somerset, and next to him, was Margaret herself, followed by her husband, Archiband and then her two sons, King James V of Scotland, and Alexander, Duke of Ross, while Lady Margaret Douglas, Margaret's youngest child, sat next to them. Then came The Dowager Queen Mary. Next to The Dowager Queen Mary, was her husband, Sir Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk and their children, Henry, Frances, Eleanor and Edward. Next to Dowager Queen Mary's children was their grandmother's sister, Princess Catherine of York, Countess of Devon with her two children, Henry and Margaret Courtenay. Margaret had her husband, Henry Somerset, The 2nd Earl of Worcester sat next to her with their daughter, Lady Lucy Somerset, while Henry was currently widowed.

The two children of Princess Cecily of York, sat next to them; Robert first, and then Anne. Thomas Howard, son of Princess Anne of York, Countess of Norfolk and Thomas Howard, 3rd Duke of Norfolk, sat next to them, despite being the cousin of the concubine, he was still related to Royalty. Lady Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury, and her children, sat in the pew behind, while all of Margaret Pole's Grandchildren filled the pew behind her, with Lord Henry Fitzroy sat next to them.

All in all, Margaret mused, perhaps the English weren't so beaten by the family of a whore, even if the concubine's family did bread like rabbits. Margaret did not mind being behind Prince Harry and Princess Mary, as they were the children of Katherine of Aragon, who had gotten along well with Margaret in the brief years after Arthur's tragic demise, before Margaret had been shipped off to Scotland to become Queen.

The priest rose, and everyone fell quiet. Once the priest had said his bit, The King began to speak "I, Henry Tudor, King of England, third son of the Right High and Mighty King Henry Tudor of England and Right High and Mighty Dowager Queen Elizabeth Plantagenet, take you, Lady Anne Boleyn, Marquess of Pembroke, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. I, Henry Tudor, King of England, son of the Right High and Mighty King Henry Tudor of England and Right High and Mighty Dowager Queen Elizabeth Plantagenet, take you, Lady Anne Boleyn, Marquess of Pembroke, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

Once the King had finished speaking the concubine began to speak "I, Lady Anne Boleyn, Marquess of Pembroke and third daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn and Lady Elizabeth Howard, take you, Henry Tudor, King of England, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. I, Lady Anne Boleyn, Marquess of Pembroke and second daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn and Lady Elizabeth Howard, take you, Henry Tudor, King of England, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

The priest made the sign of the cross above their head and spoke "You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. That God has joined, men must not divide. Amen. Your Majesty, you may now kiss the bride,"

King Henry did not need telling twice. He threw back Anne's french veil and kissed her deeply. Margaret had to restrain herself from vomiting. King Henry led Lady Anne down the pathway to the door of the chapel. The crowd outside cheered and clapped, asdid the crowd inside, all, that is, except Margaret, who steadfastly refused to accept the whore as Queen of England. The title of Queen of England, belonged to Katherine of Aragon, and whomever Prince Harry married. No-one else, especially not a concubine, would be acknowledged as Queen of England.

"They really are a good couple, aren't they?" Dowager Queen Mary asked. Margaret sneered, but kept the disgust out of her voice for the sake of her younger sister "The moment that they are a good couple, dear Sister, is the moment that all of England accepts a concubine as a Queen,"

"Margaret!" Dowager Queen Elizabeth hissed "Watch your language! I am still your mother!"

"You do not like Queen Anne?" King James asked his mother. Margaret shook her head "I would rather die than acknowledge that whore as Queen of England,"

King James gasped, covering his brother's ears "Margaret!" Dowager Queen Mary exclaimed, clamping her hands over her eldest son's ears, as Charles covered the ears of Edward and Elizabeth placed the heads of Frances and Eleanor together before covering each of the remaining ears. The Dowager Queen Elizabeth shook her head "Katherine is dead, Maggie, whether we like it or not. It is customary that the King should take a new wife."

"Well damn custom!"

"Margaret, I warn you-!"

"Enough!" Margaret cried "I will retire now. I feel tired. I will not accept the concubine, even if His Majesty, dear Brother, Henry, tries to force me to. Katherine of Aragon, Queen of England, Lady of Ireland and Princess of Spain, is the only woman that I will accept as Queen - excluding Prince Henry's children, and yourself, mother. Katherine was legally married to my Brother, Henry... the concubine never will be," Margaret rose, and, dropping a curtsey to her son, mother, and brother, she returned to her chambers.

Once Margaret had left Alexander looked up to James "What's a concubine?"

"Thank you, mother," James muttered, silently cursing his mother for leaving him with this question. He looked down to Alexander "If I tell you, Xander, you must promise to never use that word... understand?" Alexander nodded "It's someone that sleeps around. Like the women that slept with our father while he was married to mother,"

"Ah, I see. So, it's a bad name for a mistress?"

"Yeah," James replied, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. Alexander leaned gently against James, who smiled "Now," James began "I need to find a suitable bride for you, Xander,"

Alexander's face flicked into a look of horror and despair "Oh," he moaned "do you have to?" James laughed "I'm afraid so. Should I die without a child, then you become King, and your children will succeed you... so, I need to find you someone to marry,"

"Marry off Margaret first," he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. James smiled, ruffling Alexander's red hair "I think mother already had a marriage planned for our dear sister, Xander. I think that she already has a marriage planned."

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To be continued


	7. Princess Mary's Betrothal

**Since Magic Crafter has recently updated her story, twice, I thought that I had best keep up the pace and give you one myself. Hope you enjoy this. It took damn well long enough to write. It really did, especially with writer's block, but, it's come along soon enough. Even though this is a short chapter, it sets up things for the future. I will start on the next chapter once I have updated my other Tudor stories.**

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**28th March 1527: Whitehall Palace, England**

Anne Boleyn, Queen of England, Ireland and France, whirled around the dance floor while Henry Tudor, King of England, Ireland and France, watched her closely, examining every feature of her body as she whirled past him.

Margaret, Dowager Queen of Scotland, Countess of Angus, Princess of England, Ireland and France, still heavily pregnant, had to hold herself back from vomiting as Queen Anne finished her dance by dropping into a curtsey. Margaret did not keep the disgust as she spoke "Very good, Mistress Boleyn,"

"Queen Anne," Henry swiftly corrected his sister. That was something that he should not have done. Margaret felt her indomitable temper rise to the surface and she sneered at her brother as she got to her feet "The moment that _that_ woman becomes Queen is the moment that all of Christendom falls to their knees and starts kissing your immense breeches, Harry, for that woman-" Margaret pointed a finger directly at Anne "-will _never_ be Queen of England! The people will _never_ accept her!"

"Now listen here-" Thomas Boleyn tried to interrupt. Margaret turned to him _**"DON'T YOU DARE INTERRUPT ME! I AM A QUEEN! I COULD HAVE YOUR HEAD, MASTER BOLEYN!"**_ Thomas Boleyn wisely backed down.

"Maggie-" Elizabeth, Dowager Queen of England tried to interrupt, but Margaret was having none of it. Whirling back to her brother, she sneered again as he rose "The people, Margaret, know when to accept a Queen!"

"Really?" Margaret roared "Then why did no-one cheer at her coronation and why did someone try to shoot her?" she added the next part to her sons "Unfortunately, they missed,"

Before she knew what had happened, Henry slapped her, hard, around the face. She stumbled a little _"Mum!" _James and Alexander caught their mother as Archibald rose, anxiously and little Margaret gasped. Mary gave a squeal of shock and Charles placed a hand on her shoulder while Edmund held her back.

_**"HENRY!"**_ Everyone, including Margaret, jumped, as Elizabeth, in a rare bout of anger, roared at her son "That is no way to treat your sister, even if she is a stubborn woman that needs to learn when to keep her mouth quiet."

"But, mother-"

_"But, nothing, young man! I don't care whether you are The King of England, without me you wouldn't be here, so you **WILL **listen to me, Harry! Do I make myself clear? Apologise to Margaret at once!"_

"No, mother," Margaret got to her feet and brushed herself down "I thank you for your help, but it is not worth it. Henry is too stubborn a pig to see that he is in the wrong," Margaret cast a smile to her mother "I am going back to Scotland," she turned to Henry "Goodbye. _Your Grace_," She strode confidently across the lawn and her voice called back a few moments later "Boys! Margaret! Come!"

_**"YOU DO NOT HAVE MY PERMISSION TO LEAVE!"**_ Henry roared after his sister.

That was the last straw. Margaret froze. She went as stiff as a board, before turning and striding across the lawn towards Henry. "Remember, little Harry," she began, as she reached him "That you are only King because of what happened to Arthur. He would have been much better ruling this country. For one thing, he wouldn't have been such a pig, nor would he have been so arrogant, fat, stupid or impertinent," She dipped a mocking curtsey to Henry and Anne, before dropping a proper curtsey to her other relatives. She swirled, and confidently strode across the grounds and disappeared off towards the castle. Dropping into bows, James and Alexander followed her, with Archibald and Margaret behind them.

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**29th March 1527: Whitehall Palace, England**

Henry rolled over in the bed, looking down to the bottom of the room, where Anne was stood, praying, by a cross.

"Margaret's right," Henry began, a little annoyed, as he glanced down towards the large lump where his stomach was "I am getting fat,"

"I don't mind that," Anne began, finishing her prayer, and moving to the bed. Henry looked at her, with confusion on his face "What do you mind?" he asked. Anne climbed into the bed, and Henry rolled onto his side, throwing an arm over his wife's shoulder.

"I mind," Anne began "That your sister, Margaret, does not acknowledge me as Queen," she smiled, rolling over to face her husband and placing a hand on his raised chest "Even though you _are_ getting fat, Henry, I can still sleep with you. Once Margaret goes back to Scotland, she may spread rumours about me, Henry,"

"And that is _all_ they will be, Anne," Henry assured her "Rumours. _Nothing_ more," he smiled, placing a kiss on her cheek "Margaret may have a temper, but she is not _evil_, Anne. She wouldn't spread rumours around, Anne, nor would she _start_ them. Even when we were children she _never_ spread rumours. _Never_. It was too far below her status, and, after her family and friends, her status is one thing she would never give up!"

Anne smiled, pushing herself closer to Henry and snuggling up against him. He smiled, placing a kiss on her forehead and, slipping both arms around Anne, he pulled her close. She felt Henry's expanding waistline press gently against her and the two of them fell asleep instantly, curled up in each others embrace.

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**30th March 1527: Whitehall Palace, England**

Shaking hands, with Margaret, Henry sealed the deal.

"It is settled then," Margaret began "Alexander and Mary will marry after she reaches her twelfth birthday."

"She will," Henry replied, taking a sip of ale and then asking "She and Alexander will live in Scotland, I presume?"

"Yes," Margaret replied, before taking a sip of ale "They will live at Stirling Castle. Alexander was given a household there in December for his thirteenth birthday. He needed a household of his own. He and James couldn't live together forever."

"We all lived together," Henry contradicted Margaret "At least until Arthur and Katherine were married."

"Yes," Margaret agreed "But that was just because father was a miser and mother wanted to keep us all close, especially after Arthur's death."

A strained silence passed between the two siblings at the mention of their deceased brother. Margaret took another sip of ale, and attempted to break the ice. "I would never have expected you to remarry, Harry. Not after Katherine's death."

"Harry and Mary needed a mother figure in their lives." Henry replied, taking a large gulp of ale.

"They have our mother," Margaret informed Henry.

"They do," He replied "But our mother is ageing. She is not as young as she once was."

"Don't let mother hear you say that, Harry," Margaret commented "She'd have your head..."

"Indeed, she would. But I would never let her hear me say that she is ageing."

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_To Be Continued_


	8. Author Note

**Attention, faithful reviewers. This story is discontinued. But, panic not, for I will be writing an IMPROVED VERSION now that I have discussed things with my beta... or at least, I will have, by the time the first chapter is up.**

**Look out for the first chapter of the new story, which should be up within a few hours. Just look on my story list for it. **

**Yours faithfully,**

**KingdomHeartsNerd**


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